


Strength of a Child

by StuckOnTwice247



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Coming of Age, Gen, Hospitals, Medical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuckOnTwice247/pseuds/StuckOnTwice247
Summary: Jihyo is a doctor at Seoul Children’s Hospital. She takes care of Dahyun, a young girl with leukaemia. One day, a new face, Mina, joins her medical team. Things get off to a rocky start. Will they be able to work together and overcome their challenges?
Relationships: Myoui Mina & Park Jisoo | Jihyo
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:  
> \- I will be uploading this in 4 parts. Part 1 is posted here. I'm about halfway through Part 2.  
> \- Many parts of the story are taken from my experience of working in a Paediatric hospital for 4 years.  
> \- I'll be using some medical terms (in asterisks) in the story. Footnotes can be found at the end of the chapter.  
> \- I would categorise this as a coming-of-age/angst fanfic.  
> \- I have ensured that the medical accounts in the story are as accurate as they can be, but please forgive me should there be any discrepancies.  
> \- All feedback/criticism is welcome!
> 
> Character profiles:  
> Jihyo - Conscientious and responsible, she is well-liked by her colleagues. Starts to doubt herself after she fails her board exams.  
> Mina - Most know her as the daughter of the hospital’s director. Beneath her cold and quiet exterior, she hides a painful past.  
> Dahyun - A young girl who is battling an aggressive leukaemia. Her sunshine personality makes her a hit with doctors and nurses.  
> Chaeyoung - Dahyun’s younger sister who follows her on her hospital visits. Shy whenever there are strangers around. Expresses herself through drawing.  
> Jinyoung - Single father to Dahyun and Chaeyoung. His wife passed away 3 years ago from cancer. A promising singer, he quit his job to take care of his daughters full-time.  
> Tzuyu - Dahyun’s nurse-in-charge. Thoughtful and gentle. She develops a close bond with Chaeyoung.

Night shift, 21:29

Jihyo looked at her phone, at first in disbelief, then resignation.

Candidate #12: Park Jihyo  
Result: Fail

Board examinations. Those dreaded two words had consumed the last 6 months of her life. On top of juggling clinical duties, she had spent countless hours attending tutorials, examining patients and studying from textbooks and journals. Nearly every waking hour was dedicated towards passing this exam, so that she could begin speciality training. Now it seemed all her efforts were in vain.

Jihyo heaved a sigh. This isn’t the first obstacle you’ve faced, she told herself. Counting silently, she realised that it’d been 4 years since she graduated from medical school, and 10 years since she embarked on her journey in medicine. 

It had been Jihyo’s aspiration as a child to become a doctor. She reminisced with fondness the stories her mother, a nurse, used to tell her during bedtime. The one about the man who staggered into the emergency room with an axe in his head, or the other one about the lady who was in a horrific road traffic accident but escaped relatively unscathed. Young Jihyo would listen intently, wide-eyed with interest. She was helpful and kind by nature, and her mother’s profession was a huge inspiration to her growing up.

Jihyo suddenly missed her parents and younger sister, whom she was very close to. She realised she hadn’t seen them for nearly a month (she stayed at a rented apartment near the hospital for convenience). The hospital had become a second home. The long work hours, exam preparation and night shifts twice a week meant that any free time was usually used for sleep. She wanted to hang out with her old friends from high school too, but often could not due to fatigue and schedule clashes. Eventually they stopped asking her out, and this made her sad. 

She was jolted out of her thoughts by her ringing phone. A cheery voice greeted her.

“Hi Dr Park, I need you to review this girl in ward 8B, she’s just finished her chemo. It’s Dahyun!” 

Jihyo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she’s back in again! She’s one of my favourite kids, such a fighter. I’ll be there soon Nurse Tzuyu! How are her vitals?”

“Stable! She’s a real trooper. See you in a bit!”

Jihyo wolfed down the last morsel of her ham and cheese sandwich and began her “expedition” to ward 8B, the Paediatric Oncology ward. It was located at the west wing of the hospital, down a long dreary linkway and up 4 flights of stairs. Doctors on night shift had to cover the wards on both the east and west wing, and Jihyo easily clocked more than 10,000 steps on her Fitbit from shuttling to and fro. It was quite the workout.

The automated door to the ward opened with a mechanical whirr. Jihyo rubbed her hands furiously in response to the cold draught that greeted her. A cup of hot coffee declared its welcome presence on the nursing counter. Nurses are real lifesavers, thought Jihyo as she took a sip of the coffee. It was strong stuff, and she felt invigorated instantly. 

“Could I have her chart please? Thanks, Tzuyu.”

“She’s waiting for you. It’s past her bedtime but I told her you’re on call and she insisted on staying up till you came!”

“Awww she’s super sweet. I guess I shouldn’t keep her waiting!”

Jihyo washed her hands meticulously before donning a surgical mask, gloves and a plastic gown. Patients undergoing chemotherapy are especially vulnerable to infections. Chemotherapy works like a nuclear bomb, taking out the cancer cells but also indiscriminately obliterating the body’s immune system. Jihyo took no chances. Once she was gowned up, she activated the sensor which opened the sliding door.

Dahyun’s room was bathed in a warm glow. Children’s cancer wards were very different from the lifelessly pristine adult ones; the walls here were painted in bright colours and covered with zoo animals. As children undergoing chemotherapy had to stay within their rooms at all times, the ward thoughtfully rented out Blu-rays and DVDs for them to enjoy. “Frozen 2” was playing on the television, and Jihyo could hear three animated voices singing “Into The Unknown”.

“Wow someone’s still watching Disney movies at this hour?” Jihyo said as she poked her head through the curtains.

“DOCTOR JIGGLYPUFF!!!” squealed Dahyun. Jihyo’s face lit up instantly; it was a nickname Dahyun had given her after a Pokémon that she thought resembled her. 

“Yes, it’s me, Dubu! How are you feeling?” replied Jihyo brightly. (Dubu was the nickname Jihyo picked for Dahyun because her fair complexion reminded her of tofu.) She then noticed Dahyun’s father and younger sister, Chaeyoung, enjoying the movie alongside her. “Oh, good evening Mr Park, and hi there Chaeyoung! I’m here to review Dahyun and make sure she’s doing okay from the chemo.”

“Sure! Thanks for coming over Dr Park! She said she’d stay up till you came. Have you had dinner? Doctors need to take care of themselves too.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve had a bite.” Jihyo smiled as she remembered her first encounter with this family. A few weeks ago, Dahyun’s father had brought her to the Emergency Department for a prolonged high fever that would not go away. There were also multiple unexplained bruises on her body. Blood tests later confirmed that she had Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia (ALL), a blood cancer that afflicts young children worldwide. 

Jihyo was part of the ward team that received Dahyun when she was admitted. From the initial blood investigations and scans to inserting a portacath* and starting chemotherapy, Jihyo was closely involved in Dahyun’s care and struck by her tenacity. Her peals of laughter resonated in the ward, and the nurses loved taking care of her. She really takes after her father, Jihyo thought. Mr Park often brought food for the nurses and doctors during Dahyun’s hospital stay, and the number 1 question on his lips was invariably, “Have you eaten?” Even in his shock and grief at his daughter’s diagnosis, he was never once impatient with the medical team.

Dahyun gave Jihyo a thumbs-up and a cheeky smile. “I’m okay, just a bit tired. But Frozen 2 was sooooooo good! Right Chaeyoung?” Chaeyoung didn’t respond; she was now engrossed in doodling on a piece of paper. Chaeyoung tended to clam up in the presence of people who were not her family members, Jihyo observed.

Jihyo looked at the beeping monitors, which all showed reassuring numbers. She then examined Dahyun meticulously, first listening to her heart and lungs with a stethoscope, then palpating her tummy gently (she made sure to warm her hands first knowing Dahyun was sensitive to the cold). Next, she checked Dahyun’s portacath site to make sure it wasn’t red, suggesting infection. Satisfied, she gave Dahyun a thumbs-up. 

“I got you something!” Jihyo reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of shiny Disney stickers. 

“YAAAAAAAAY!!!” Dahyun squealed as she opened the stickers. Chaeyoung didn’t bat an eyelid, thoroughly focused on her drawing. This puzzled Jihyo for a moment. Didn’t I hear her singing along with her sister just moments earlier? Jihyo thought to herself.

“Ah, Dr Park, you shouldn’t have. You’ll spoil her!” Mr Park chided.

“I have to go now, I’ve got other patients to see. I’ll see you later in the morning at rounds!”

Dahyun pouted. “Alright, but I want you to have this.” She picked out an Elsa sticker with the words “This too shall pass” and stuck it on Jihyo’s stethoscope. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The night shift was busy, and Jihyo was kept on her feet all night. Apart from attending to new children who were admitted to the wards from the Children’s Emergency, Jihyo also had to oversee the existing patients and ensure that their conditions did not deteriorate. There were procedures to be done, blood results to be interpreted, charts to review, medications to order. Jihyo hardly ever set foot in the doctor-on-call room, furnished simply with a computer terminal and a bed. She could only afford precious minutes of shuteye in between admissions, using her jumper as a makeshift pillow.

There is a saying amongst doctors that goes, “No matter how long a night shift is, the sun always rises again.” Jihyo stretched and stifled a yawn as she took off her stethoscope from around her neck. Rays of sunlight began to peek through the windows of the ward. A new day had begun. Recalling the hectic events of the night and also her disappointment at having failed her board exams, the words on the sticker that Dahyun gave her seemed especially timely. 

Jihyo made her way to ward 8B for morning rounds. It was a flurry of activity; night shift nurses were handing over to their morning shift colleagues, junior doctors were poring over blood results and patients’ case notes to get a sense of what happened overnight. But Jihyo noticed something else: some of the nurses were talking in hushed tones and gesturing in the direction of the doctor’s room, located at the far end of the ward. 

From the nursing counter, Jihyo spotted an unfamiliar figure in front of a desktop in the doctor’s room. Jihyo usually wore the default navy blue hospital scrubs to work (convenience over fashion, she used to say), but this lady was decked in an elegant mint green dress that matched her teal stethoscope. Her posture was impeccable, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, and her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Occasionally she would bite on her tongue, as if contemplating something. She emanated class and poise, and Jihyo thought she reminded her of one of those well-groomed, picture-perfect doctors she had seen on a medical drama recently.

Nurse Tzuyu nudged Jihyo into the pantry, catching her by surprise. “Psssst, have you heard? She’s joining your team today.”

“Who?” Jihyo didn’t have a clue what Tzuyu meant.

“That’s Dr Mina. Her father’s the hospital director! She’s known to be an ice queen, hardly smiles and only speaks when she’s spoken to.”

“Oh? All the same, I should go say hi since she’s joining my team! She seems really classy and dresses well!”

“Well, I warned you. Also, it’s Professor Cho leading the rounds this morning so... Fighting!”

Jihyo groaned. Prof Cho had a fearsome reputation. Many junior doctors had been on the receiving end of her lightning-speed questioning during rounds, and if they failed to provide the correct answers they would be humiliated in front of fellow staff and patients too. Putting aside this unpleasant prospect for a moment, Jihyo approached Mina, clearing her throat as she mustered up the most friendly voice she could manage.

“Good morning! You must be Mina? I’m Jihyo, pleased to meet you! I’m looking forward to...”

“I’m Mina.” Jihyo was cut off mid-sentence by a curt reply. Mina’s voice was soft and distant, almost as if a sheet of ice were separating them. “Prof Cho is here, let’s start the rounds.” Mina got up from her seat and left the doctor’s room, her heels echoing clackclackclack down the corridor. Jihyo had extended a hand hoping for a handshake, but she now stood alone in the doctor’s room, her intentions unreciprocated. 

Well, she’s quite the character. Jihyo thought as she brisk-walked out of the doctor’s room to join her team.

Morning rounds. An integral part of a doctor’s day. Doctors and nurses would gather as a team, following the professor like an entourage as they discussed each patient’s progress and decided on treatment plans and goals for the day. In an ideal world, rounds would be efficient and to the point, but Jihyo would soon learn that this was not going to be an ideal day.

“So, Jihyo, you’ve been taking care of Dahyun all this while? Tell me all the side effects of Ara-C**.” Prof Cho’s booming voice demanded an answer. Jihyo was caught off-guard. She knew Dahyun’s medical history and chemotherapy regime by heart, but fatigue from the night shift was clouding her brain. 

“Sorry Prof, I know the answer, give me a moment...” Jihyo fumbled.

“The most common side effects are nausea and vomiting, for which Dahyun has been given granisetron. We also anticipate mouth ulcers within 7 to 10 days of initiating treatment. Her nurses have been inspecting her oral cavity daily. Finally, we expect her blood counts to drop in a few days, so we will be doing daily CBCs***.” Mina replied coolly.

“Very impressive, Dr Mina. Dr Jihyo, it’s shocking to me that you don’t even know such basic information, and you’ve been here longer than Dr Mina. At this rate it’s no wonder that you couldn’t clear your board exams.”

Jihyo gritted her teeth as she fought back the tears that were beginning to sting her eyes. This too shall pass, Jihyo repeated this silent mantra to herself. She willed her weary body forward, counting down the hours before she could finally return to the simple comfort of her bed.

-End of Chapter 1-

*Portacath - a port that is connected to a vein via a catheter (tube). Used for giving chemotherapy and other drugs.  
**Ara-C - Also known as cytarabine. A chemotherapy drug.  
***CBC - Complete blood count. A blood test that counts blood cells & platelets


	2. Chapter 2

“So Dubu, are you ready for this?”

“Yes, I think so.” Dahyun managed a smile, but there was no hiding her fear.

The Day 29 MRD. Dahyun was scheduled to undergo a bone marrow aspiration to see how well her body had responded to the first phase of chemotherapy. The MRD, short for Minimal Residual Disease, would detect the percentage of leukaemia cells that were still present in the bone marrow.

Jihyo patted Dahyun’s shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, it’s alright to be scared. Don’t worry, I’m going to stay by your side through it all. And Dr Mina will make sure that you don’t feel any pain, right Dr Mina?”

“Yup, and I’m going to make you sleep faster than you can say Jajangmyeon!” Mina teased. Everyone in the room laughed, and Dahyun was especially tickled. Jihyo was surprised; it was the first time she’d ever heard Mina laugh. It was a warm, infectious laugh, so different from her usually icy demeanour. 

Jihyo glanced at Mr Park and nodded. It was time for the procedure. Nurse Tzuyu ushered him and Chaeyoung out of the room and to the play area, where they would wait until the procedure was finished. This was to ensure that the procedure could be done in a sterile manner. The lesser the number of people in the room, the better. 

Jihyo went through a mental checklist of all the equipment she would require for the bone marrow aspiration, while Mina began to draw out drugs needed to sedate Dahyun during the procedure. Once she was satisfied that everything was in place, Jihyo turned to Dahyun. 

“Alright Dubu, we’ll get started real soon!”

“Promise me you won’t leave?” Dahyun reached out her little hand.

Jihyo gave Dahyun’s hand a squeeze and smiled. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.” With her other hand, she gave Mina the OK sign, signalling for her to administer the propofol. Within seconds, Dahyun’s eyes closed and her grip on Jihyo’s hand loosened. 

“She’s gone under. We can begin now.”

Jihyo took a deep breath. She had done this procedure several times before, so the steps were by now second nature to her. She began by donning a pair of sterile gloves. Next, she placed surgical drapes around Dahyun’s hip, forming a circle that would be the injection site. She then cleaned the injection site thoroughly and meticulously with povidone iodine, turning the skin a dark brown colour. 

With the preparation complete, Jihyo steadied her grip on the BMA needle, a large-bore needle designed to penetrate skin and bone to access the bone marrow. Underneath her surgical mask, she winced. The long needle looked ominous and menacing next to Dahyun’s petite frame, a cruel juxtaposition. Jihyo often wondered why young children had to be subject to painful procedures like this. She knew, of course, that this was necessary, and she resolved to do it perfectly with minimal complications.

Applying firm pressure, Jihyo pushed the needle downward until she felt a drop in resistance, indicating that she had entered the bone marrow. Heaving a sigh of relief, she connected a syringe and pulled the plunger. The syringe soon filled with a crimson red fluid, and Jihyo knew that the result of this test would be critical. “Please let the MRD be negative” Jihyo prayed, a whisper that was audible only to Mina.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The play area was located next to the entrance of ward 8B. A haven for sick children and their siblings, the walls were painted in bright and cheery colours, a stark contrast to the sterile white walls of the rest of the ward. In the middle was a small table surrounded by tiny chairs in pastel colours. There were two boxes in the far corner, one filled with LEGO blocks and the other, stuffed animals for tea parties. The toys were washed and disinfected regularly. Beside the boxes stood a bookcase filled with children’s picture books (Dahyun’s favourite was “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”, Tzuyu recalled). A wall-mounted television was playing re-runs of popular cartoons, usually either Spongebob Squarepants or Tom and Jerry.

Chaeyoung sat herself at the table beside her father, who chuckled at a funny scene on TV. She was immersed in a colouring book, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Tzuyu looked on with a tender gaze. Though she had taken care of many children with cancer and developed close bonds with several of them, she had a soft spot for their siblings. It was a traumatic experience witnessing loved ones undergoing procedures and chemotherapy that they had little understanding of, and Tzuyu’s heart ached for them. She resolved to provide holistic care to her patients and their families too. 

Mr Park stood up abruptly. “Nurse Tzuyu, could you help keep an eye on Chaeyoung for a bit? I’m heading down to get lunch. Do you need anything?”

“Nope! I’ve had a bite. And it’d be a pleasure to watch Chaeyoung.”

“Thanks! I’ll be back shortly.” He turned to Chaeyoung. “I’ll be coming back with kimbap and strawberries!”

“Yay! My favourite!” Chaeyoung flashed her father an impish grin that showed her dimples. 

Tzuyu looked at the page of the colouring book that Chaeyoung had been working on. This one was filled with different types of fruits. Chaeyoung had picked a strawberry to colour in, and she did an impeccable job of colouring within the lines. She truly had a flair for art. 

“You really love strawberries, don’t you?” Tzuyu asked.

Chaeyoung nodded, and returned to her colouring. Tzuyu wasn’t discouraged. She knew what would win Chaeyoung over.

“Look what I got you!” A box of colour pencils appeared on the table.

“Colour pencils! Are they for me?” Chaeyoung beamed, unable to hide her excitement. “Thank you!” She flipped to an empty page and immediately began to draw. In the centre of the page was a hospital bed with a little girl on it. She had a smile on her face, even though her arm was connected to an IV bag. A concerned male figure stood next to her. They had to be Dahyun and her father. To their right was a lady in a white dress with wings and a halo above her head. She had a peaceful expression on her face. An angel? Realisation dawned on Tzuyu: this was Chaeyoung’s late mother. She was watching over the family from heaven. 

Tzuyu’s attention turned to the left corner of the page. Chaeyoung was now sketching the silhouette of a little girl, huddled and alone. Her eyes were closed, and tears were falling from her face. Tzuyu felt a pang in her chest. 

“Mummy left. Will Dahyun leave too? Why do those we love have to leave?” Chaeyoung suddenly turned silent, her eyes brimming with tears.

Tzuyu drew Chaeyoung into her arms and placed her hand on her chest. “No, Chaeyoung. They will always be here, right there in your heart.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

MRD: 0.5%  
Ph+ t(9;22) chromosomal translocation detected

Jihyo remembered the disappointment she felt upon receiving her board examination results. This set of results was ten times, maybe a hundred times more devastating.

An ideal MRD of less than 0.01% meant that there were no longer any detectable leukaemia cells in the bone marrow. 0.5% was not a good number; it meant that a significant number of leukaemia cells had survived the initial treatment. Furthermore, the presence of the Philadelphia chromosome was another poor prognostic factor. 

Jihyo attempted to explain these results to Mr Park, making sure to pause at certain junctures and avoiding the use of medical jargon. Both of them were in a small room designated for family conferences. Mr Park had not uttered a single word, his expression unreadable. Jihyo softened her voice, hoping that it would somehow soften the blow.

“This means that Dahyun will have to undergo more intense chemo, and further down the road, we may have to consider a bone marrow transplant.” Jihyo swallowed the lump developing in her throat before continuing. “It’s a lot to take in at one sitting. Would you like me to continue another time, Mr Park?”

Sitting across from her, Mr Park suddenly looked older than his age. Jihyo noticed several silver strands amidst the black, and his frown lines looked more pronounced in the light. He reached for his pocket and took out a battered wallet. From it he retrieved a yellowed Polaroid picture, a family photo from happier times. It was the Park family enjoying a day at Disneyland.

Mr Park pointed to the lady in the picture who was in a wheelchair. She was wearing a woollen chemo cap. She looked frail and her complexion was pale, but she had a wide smile on her face that immediately reminded her of Dahyun. Hugging her on both sides were miniature versions of Dahyun and Chaeyoung.

“That’s my late wife. We lost her 3 years ago. Ovarian cancer. This was one of our last family trips together. She always wanted to take our daughters to Disneyland, ‘where dreams come true’, she used to say.”

Mr Park leaned back in his chair. “It was love at first sight.” He sighed. “I used to be a singer. She was in charge of publicity. We met by chance during one of my concerts, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

Jihyo smiled, nodding. Mr Park’s stage name was JYP, and he had been a fairly popular singer back then. Jihyo had a few of his CDs and would listen to them while studying. She found his voice soothing, and his songs carried uplifting messages.

Mr Park continued. “We got married, and had two beautiful daughters. Things were smooth-sailing, until she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Stage 4. It was detected way too late. The cancer ravaged her. She was reduced to skin and bones...” His voice trailed. “But it never took her spirit. She was a fighter till the very end.”

“Becoming a single father was hard. I had to start from scratch. The toughest part wasn’t leaving the entertainment scene, it was learning how to tie and braid their hair! I was terrible at that.” Mr Park chuckled, but his laughter gave way to sobs.

“I quit my job because I had lost my muse. My wife was the love of my life, my inspiration. Losing her was unbearable, but I promised her that I would bring up our daughters well. They are my life, they mean everything to me, but now Dahyun... Dahyun... How I wish I could be the one suffering instead of her!”

Jihyo felt the tears coming on, and this time she allowed herself to cry. Doctor, parent, patient. There was no longer any hierarchy in these intertwined relationships; their tears were an acknowledgement of their common humanity in the face of disease. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jihyo dabbed her eyes dry as she left the room. She couldn’t be seen with puffy eyes; she still had a long day to go. She decided to make her way to the doctor’s room. There was a small pantry area there where she could get a hot beverage. As she entered, she spotted Mina reading from a familiar textbook, “100 Cases for Board Exam”. 

“Oh, you’re taking the next board exam? That’s in 6 months, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” Mina replied curtly.

“Well,” Jihyo inhaled. “I failed the last time so I’ll be retaking it. I’ve made notes on the different topics. If you like, we can be study buddies!” 

Mina turned to face Jihyo with a bemused expression on her face. “You know...” She hesitated for a moment before completing her sentence. “You’re different.”

“Different? How so?” Jihyo was surprised by Mina’s reply.

“Most people are nice to me because they know my father is the director of this hospital. They try to be friends with me, but all they want is some sort of benefit. Others spread rumours about how I got to where I am because of my dad, that he pulled strings for me to be here.”

“But you aren’t like them. You’re genuinely kind and treat everyone with warmth, whether it’s the children, their families or nurses. Even when I’ve been cold towards you, you never got frustrated at me. Why?”

Jihyo thought for a moment. “Because everyone’s fighting a battle that no one else knows about. I may not understand what they’re going through, but at least I can be kind.”

Mina’s expression softened as she considered this for a moment. “You know, about that study buddy thing? I think... I’d like that very much.” She held out her hand.

Jihyo beamed as she held Mina’s hand in a firm handshake. “Let’s conquer this Board Exam together!” Even though the ward temperature was set at 21 degrees, Jihyo felt as warm as a summer’s day.

-End of Chapter 2-


End file.
